I wrote this poem about corona19, Pandemic which is broken out on purpose by China.
Corona19
Choi Paul Yearn
Compared to the universe of infinity
Human being are as small as the virus C19
To look through an elec. microscope.
In order to realize the identity of like that
Oh C19, break out over the world not too bad
Even with a virus humanity can be miserable Warning strictly with a terrible pandemic
God is now pouring out the wrath
Of suffering and death as they against church
Upon China focused on Wuhwan-city
Demonstration city of destroying His church
To completely destroy by this year
By Xi Jinping and the Communist Party.
If any country meets the wrong leader
If you become a slave of the wrong ideology
Demonstrating a terrible defeat
Oh C19, rise, rise, only in the country
Curse those who have to be cursed because
Of evildoing to the church and mankind.
(2020.3.27)
Dear readers, please read story concerning this poem
According to an article from the Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy at the University of Minnesota, there is absolutely no evidence that the Covid-19 virus originated in a laboratory anywhere. Calling it the "Chinese" virus for political purposes is obscene.
I believe you are saying that bad leaders will lead badly during this outbreak of Coronavirus. I agree with that. Unfortunately, in the United States, the leaders have so far managed not to get the virus, while the very poor and crowded together by job, ethnicity and circumstance, are the ones that are taking the brunt of this terrible onus.
You are right, compared to the universe, we are as small as a virus. Even smaller. Let us hope that we do not become a virus on universe, going to other planets and infecting them with our stupid ideals.
It was a mutated and planned virus that was meant to destroy other countries' economies as China wants to be the world's leader, even at the expense of sacrificing its own people. Many scientists who worked in the lab in China cannot be reached by friends and relatives. They were murdered for the sake of secrecy, but the world already knows.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
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You are right, compared to the universe, we are as small as a virus. Even smaller. Let us hope that we do not become a virus on universe, going to other planets and infecting them with our stupid ideals.
Ron
Sandie